


The Four Horsewomen of Starcraft

by ahunter8056



Series: WWE in Starcraft [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, StarCraft (Video Games), World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Crossover, Four Horsewomen, Gen, Platonic Relationships, StarCraft AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-07-08 22:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19877173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahunter8056/pseuds/ahunter8056
Summary: Becky Lynch is the new Magistrate of the Mar Sara colony. An alien threat quickly emerges, and she is quickly forced to decide where her allegiances lie. Eventually joining forces with a commander, a ghost, and a mechanic, the four will go on a long journey throughout the galaxy, on which they may eventually find themselves fighting for different sides.Aka The Four Horsewomen experiencing the storyline of the series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This is a story running in conjunction with AttackPlatypus' Part 2 of our Starcraft AU, populated by wrestlers. This story acts as Part 1. Even though they are referred to as parts, they should be standalone for the most part.
> 
> Although this story will be running through the storyline of the whole series, there will significantly more artistic freedom than with my Diablo AU.
> 
> Please give it a read, and hopefully you'll enjoy!

Becky Lynch tapped her fingers against her desk, in the same rhythm as she had been doing for the past few hours. She glanced around the room, her green eyes falling on the electronic calendar attached to the wall. The date read December 12th, 2499.

As the newly appointed Magistrate of the Mar Sara colony, she was responsible for repelling incursions by any who might threaten the colony, namely the extremist faction, the Sons of Korhal. Led by Arcturus Mengsk, the movement had been created following the Confederacy’s devastating nuclear bombardment of Mengsk’s homeworld, Korhal. In recent years the rebellion had grown in strength, launching terrorist attacks on multiple Confederate colonies.

That was why the Confederacy had brought her in to safeguard the colony of Mar Sara. They knew that no colony was safe, and each one needed someone to monitor defence. For Mar Sara, Becky Lynch was that person. So far Becky had done an impressive job, repelling every attack with relative ease, with minimal civilian casualties.

There was reason for her to be worried about the colony she was there to protect. Last month, the Sons of Korhal had attacked the nearby planet of Chau Sara. Although the Confederacy’s Alpha Squadron had driven the rebels back, a mysterious alien warfleet arrived and launched a massive orbital strike, incinerating the planet and extinguishing all life. Confederate commanders had made contact with the enigmatic aliens, who identified themselves as the Protoss. That was all the information that Becky had been privy to, with everything after that being classified information. Fearing that Mara Sara could be next, the Confederacy tightened their defences. One step of which found Becky in her new position of Magistrate.

But in her position, Becky quickly found that her downtime filled her with boredom. If there was no attack to defend the colony from, then she’d sit around counting the hours until there was one. That’s not to say she did absolutely nothing in that time. One of her favourite hobbies was thinking up puns for future use.

The hologram projector on her desk emitted a pulsing blue light, indicating that somebody was trying to communicate with her. Having become stumped on her latest attempt at devising a new pun, Becky pushed the switch to open communication channels.

“Greetings Magistrate,” a grizzled old man’s visage appeared from her hologram projector. Looking as though he was in his fifties, he had a severe crew cut, with his hairline greatly receded. Scars covered his face, indicating that he had survived several battles at the very least. Wearing a red and grey battle suit, he bore a constant scowl on his face. Clearly, he was not a personable man. “I’m General Edmund Duke of the Confederate Security Forces, Alpha Squadron,” the man introduced himself, speaking in a Southern drawl that was common among the Confederacy. “The Confederacy has quarantined this entire planet, and we’ll proceed with the lockdown within forty-eight hours.”

Becky ensured that none of her confusion showed on her face; she didn’t want to appear rattled by the worrying order. “Greetings, Commander. May I ask sir, what is the reason for this quarantine? Is there an immediate threat?”

“That’s none of your business Magistrate, your business is to obey the orders the Confederacy gives you without question!” Duke barked, holographic spittle flying through the air before disappearing, evidently displeased by Becky’s hesitancy to comply.

“Well as Magistrate, one might say that it IS my business to know any dangers threatening MY colony,” Becky fired back, knowing that even the grizzled commander could not fault her logic.

“You’re to relocate your core colonists to the outlying wastelands,” Duke continued in an obtuse attempt at deflection, knowing he had no response to Becky’s truth. “Now I know there won’t be any problems with these new arrangements.”

Without waiting for Becky’s response, General Duke’s projection faded from view, having terminated the connection. Becky exhaled sharply in frustration. Some commanders she had to deal with really tested her resolve and made her question why she continued to serve the Confederacy. She may be a patient woman, but even her patience was not limitless. Her commanders keeping valuable information from her really grinded her gears. Almost as if they didn’t trust her, or worse still, as though she were disposable, and therefore not important enough to waste time sharing information with. No, that couldn’t be it, Becky thought. She had proven her worth too often to be considered disposable. Taking a moment to allow her frustration to dissipate, she then refocused her mind. Despite her internal objections, she had a job to do.

The redhead was in the midst of making her plans to relocate the colonists, when her communicator screen beeped, letting her know that she had a transmission incoming. Opening her communication channel, the face of a young man filled the screen, he too with a crew cut. Thankfully, he didn’t look anywhere near as gruff as General Duke, and she didn’t recognise him as one of her superiors.

“Howdy, Magistrate,” the man said, his voice smooth, unlike the drawn out severity of General Duke’s. “My name is Jim Raynor, and I’m the local Marshal.”

“Good evening Marshal,” Becky responded cheerily, pleased to be speaking with someone who appeared benign, after her frustrating dialogue with General Duke.

“Ah please, call me Jim.” Becky fought hard to prevent a smile breaking out at this remark. With the majority of Confederate commanders so pompous and full of themselves that they demanded to be referred to only by their military rank, it was truly refreshing to talk to somebody who valued being spoken to like a normal Terran.

“What can I do for you, Jim?” Becky enquired.

“I’ve heard about the plan to relocate the Mar Sara colonists to the outlying wastelands, and I’ve been requested to give you a hand,” Jim said, his choice of wording revealing that he was far more of a free spirit than a Confederate lackey. “I’ll meet your personnel en route and escort them to the new wasteland site.”

“Acknowledged, Jim. Thank you for offering your assistance,” Becky replied, grateful for the aid. Moving that amount of colonists in such a short space of time would be a difficult task, and she’d use all the help she could get to expediate the process. Especially one who clearly knew these parts enough to hold the office of Marshal.

“Just doin’ my job darlin’,” Raynor replied, and his image faded from view, the conversation over. Now alone, Becky stopped fighting the smile that had been threatening to break out throughout the conversation. After weeks of having to deal with oppressive, condescending Confederate commanders, it was such a refreshing change of pace to be dealing directly with somebody with people skills, somebody who seemed to genuinely care about the fates of others like she did.

\-----

With hundreds of unhappy colonists behind her, flanked by a squad of marines, Becky continued to trudge through the mud towards the rendezvous point with Jim Raynor. As Magistrate, Becky was not used to being on the front lines, carrying out orders as she simultaneously issued them. Normally she’d be giving out orders from either her desk or a temporary base of operations. In this situation, she felt it imperative that she be out there among the colonists as a show of solidarity. She might not be the most effective commander in the case of a battle, but she truly cared for the citizens she was sworn to protect, which is something that many battle commanders completely lacked. She didn’t mind getting in the thick of it and in possible danger if it meant showing her citizens that she was genuinely looking out for them. This show of care and personal attention resonated with the citizens, who looked markedly happier when they saw that their Magistrate would be personally escorting them. Though none of them were happy by the new arrangements being forced upon them, at least they could trust that their Magistrate had their best interests at heart, and that really meant something to the colonists of Mar Sara.

“Can’t believe we’re being sent to the wastelands,” a colonist piped up to break the heavy silence that had been in place for the majority of the journey, “these Confederates think they can push anybody around.” The crowd around the outspoken colonist murmured in agreement, all of them having objected to the new arrangement. Becky couldn’t blame them. It would be truly unsettling to have to pack up and leave everything behind without being given a reason. Hell, she was angry on their behalf. If the Confederacy expected the colonists to be content with having to leave their homes behind, they at least deserved to know why they were doing it.

Boots thudded as the party of colonists and marines crossed the bridge. Waiting for them on the other side was a man sat astride a Vulture, a weaponised vehicle that roughly resembled the shape of a chopper, which were commonplace back on Earth centuries ago. Jim Raynor looked less authoritative in person, his aura of personable a stark comparison to the Confederates Becky usually had to deal with. A light beard coating his jaw, wearing a blue battle suit, he looked more like an outlaw than a marshal.

“Howdy boys,” Raynor started, addressing the marines leading the colonists. “Ma’am,” Raynor said, glancing directly at Becky, who nodded in response. “Our destination is not too far from here,” he announced to the party of colonists and marines. “Just one hour walk south, and we’ll be at the base which has been prepared for your arrival,” Jim smiled at the colonists, wanting to emphasise his empathy towards them. “Now we shouldn’t run into any problems on our way. But just in case we do, you’ll have me to protect you, along with these fine boys,” Raynor gestured towards the marines. The colonists murmured in acknowledgement, seemingly trusting the marshal.

The group marched in the direction of their new lodgings. Raynor slowed his vulture down to a pace matching the rest of the group on foot. Becky and Raynor found themselves moving side-by-side at the front of the column.

“So, Magistrate-“ Raynor began before Becky cut him off.

“Ah please, call me Becky,” Becky interrupted, playfully mimicking Raynor’s earlier interruption when she had addressed him in a similar manner.

“Right,” Jim replied with a grin, pleased that he was conversing with somebody with an element of cheekiness. He had grown tired of dealing with Confederates with no sense of humour. “How’ve you been dealing with the defence of Mar Sara?” he asked.

“We had a minor incursion from the Sons of Korhal last week, but we repelled them easily,” Becky replied.

“Does defence usually come easy to you?” Jim asked.

“Eh,” Becky scoffed, “all in a day’s work for the Man.”

“’The Man’?” Raynor asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“When it comes down to it, I’m the Man of this colony,” Becky answered. “See, there’s no one better in this job than me. When it comes to the defence of Mar Sara, I’m in charge. That’s what makes me the Man,” Becky clarified.

“I see,” Jim responded with a slight chuckle, evidently amused by Becky’s explanation. “Well I hope you’re not taking the Sons of Korhal too lightly. They can wreak havoc if underestimated,” he warned.

“I don’t underestimate anybody,” Becky fired back, “I just know my worth, and I’m not going to let anybody tell me different,” Becky explained, an arrogant smirk crossing her face with her last statement.

“Those are some mighty fighting words. You’ve got some balls,” Raynor complimented, pausing before continuing with a smirk, “Not surprising for ‘the Man’.”

“Hey, the Man’s balls are figurative,” Becky grinned back, clearly enjoying their banter. It was so good to be communicating with someone in a position of authority with a sense of humour again, she thought. Lately the only times she’d engaged in humour was when amusing herself with her own puns. A mischievous grin crossed her face, having thought up a joke to tell the marshal. “Hey Jim,” she called, turning to face Raynor, “do you know why we really need to hurry to the wastelands?”

“No, why?”

“Because we don’t want to _waste_ time,” Becky responded, emphasising her pun before laughing uproariously.

Despite his best efforts, Raynor couldn’t help but chuckle at the eccentric redheaded magistrate, “Heh, you-“ Jim was interrupted by collective gasps from the crowd of colonists. He had been too busy conversing with Becky to have been paying attention.

“What the hell is that thing?!” one of the marines exclaimed, gesturing to a creature on the road up ahead. The size of a large dog, the insectoid creature looked menacing, with pointy teeth bared, glowing red eyes and green goo dripping from it’s mandibles. Its carapace was a mixture of purple and brown and its limbs extended to pointy claws. With two additional limbs jutting above its head, equipped with multiple barbs ready to pierce its prey, it certainly looked like the stuff of nightmares.

Regaining his composure quickly, Jim knew had to act quickly to not further panic the colonists. Becky on the other hand, was frozen in shock at the sight of the repulsive creature. Raynor gave the order to the marines, “Arms at the ready.” The marines all aimed their guns at the insectoid creature. “Move forward slowly and quietly. At the first sign of movement, kill it. We can’t take any chances protectin’ these colonists,” Jim ordered.

Complying with the marshal’s orders, the marines all marched slowly, taking care to make as little noise as possible. They had no idea whether the strange creature would attack them on sight, or run away in fear. Unsurprisingly given its menacing physical appearance, it chose the former. Having detected movement from the marines, the creature turned to face them. It emitted a terrifying shriek, and bounded towards them, flexing its claws threateningly. Before it could get within striking range, a barrage of gunfire forced it to collapse to the ground in a pile of blood. The marines collectively exhaled a gasp of relief, thinking it was now over. Much to their dismay, the attack was just beginning.

The sound of dirt shifting sounded, and four more of the creatures emerged from the ground in a nightmarish sight, having burrowed in wait beforehand. They all charged at the marines, who opened fire. Three of the four were shot dead before they reached the marines. Unfortunately for one unlucky marine, the fourth creature pounced on him, using one of its many claws to pierce the protective glass visor of his helmet. Having cut a hole through, the creature proceed to stab inside the helmet with its claws over and over again with lightning speed, blood quickly filling the helmet in a gruesome display, the marine’s screams piercing the other marines’ eardrums before soon cutting out as the marine’s life had expired. Fighting back against the shock that had overtaken them at the loss of their comrade’s life, the remaining marines opened fire simultaneously, ensuring that their fallen marine was avenged, obliterating the foul creature.

Inside, Becky felt like she was going to be sick. One of the marines assigned to protect her colony had just been brutally murdered by an insectoid creature right in front of her. Her throat threatening to expel the contents of her stomach, she gulped the urge down. Even somebody with her normally flippant personality knew that this was no time for jokes. She had a job to do. She called for a medivac, a flying medical transport, to recover the body. The group waited for it to arrive, halting their mission out of respect for the fallen soldier. They couldn’t just leave his body behind, after dying in their service. As anxious as she knew some of the colonists must be to reach a safe haven, they all remained understanding out of respect, something that cemented her reasoning for really caring about her people.

The medivac having retrieved the gory remains, the group continued marching on with newfound purpose to reach their destination before encountering more of the monstrous creatures. Despite this, Becky and Raynor did their best to not allow panic to overcome the colonists. If they allowed panic to overwhelm them, they’d be even more at risk than they were now. They just had to keep a cool head and march in formation at an even pace.

\-----

Fifty minutes later, the group arrived safely at their new home without incident. The colonists immediately reported to the welcome centre to learn which accommodation they’d been allocated. Most thanked the marines and Raynor for keeping them safe during the unexpectedly perilous journey.

Personally thanking each marine for their heroic actions defending the colonists, Becky decided to retire early to get a good nights sleep. She knew there would be plenty to do the following day.


	2. Backwater Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky and Raynor receive a distress beacon from the nearby town of Backwater Station. Unable to trust in their superior officer's command, they decide to disobey orders and attempt to save the town. But as they find out, making the right decision sometimes has consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> Thanks for coming back for Chapter 2. Before I get started, I have to thank AttackPlatypus for providing feedback on this chapter, which led to increased depth. Please, enjoy.

Becky awoke a few hours later, her mind too focused on the logistical side of her colony’s new arrangements to get any more sleep. She entered her makeshift office, where she was greeted by Marshal Jim Raynor.

“Hey, what’s up ma’am?” Raynor said as a way of greeting. “Got yer refugees tucked in nice and tight.”

“Good,” Becky responded, rubbing her eyes to remove the last vestiges of sleepiness, ensuring that she was completely awake. “Have you spotted any danger in the immediate area?”

“Fortunately, no,” Raynor shook his head with a confident smile, and relief surged through Becky. “Provided you can sidestep anymore surprises from our Confederate friends, and we can keep them away from those critters,” Raynor said, referencing the insectoid monsters they encountered during their journey, “they should have an easy time.

“Well that’s a load off my mind,” Becky said, sighing with relief. “Aren’t you going to get some sleep Jim?” Becky questioned, “You must be knackered.”

“Nah, I can’t rest until this colony is secure,” Jim responded honestly, his sense of responsibility overriding any personal whims. “Besides, I got an hour’s sleep in, I’m good.” Becky chuckled at the marshal’s partially flippant statement.

A beeping sound caught Becky and Raynor’s attention. Turning around to her desk, they saw that it was the distress beacon, its red bulb flashing. Becky flipped a switch to allow the message to play, the computer adjutant playing back the written information.

“Priority alert!” the robotic voice sounded, “Backwater Station under attack by unknown alien organisms. Distress beacon activated at 0658.” The computer paused after reading the recorded message, using its artificial intelligence to work out what to do next. “Alerting Confederate headquarters on Tarsonis.”

Becky’s mind raced, thinking of all the possible threats that the town could be under. One thought in particular stood out to her, and it filled her with disgust.

“Jim,” Becky murmured, “You don’t suppose the same creatures who attacked us earlier could be the ones besieging Backwater Station?”

“It’d be a mighty fine coincidence if it weren’t,” Raynor replied, his teeth gritted with anger at the idea.

Their conversation was interrupted by an announcement from the computer.

“Stand by for incoming transmission,” the AI interface announced.

A quick, multi-toned beep sounded, indicating that the communication channel had been opened to the incoming transmission. Becky and Raynor both managed to stifle a groan upon seeing the visage of the battle-hardened, callous General Duke fill the monitor.

“We’ve already received the distress beacon from Backwater, and we’ll take care of it,” General Duke drawled, his tone emotionally distant but with an air of superiority. “You just sit tight. You’ll be notified if there’s anything we think you need to know,” General Duke stated condescendingly, before ending the transmission, leaving Becky and Raynor stood dumbfounded at the nonchalant manner expressed by General Duke.

“Damn!” Raynor yelled, frustration clearly coating his features.

“What a freakin’ dope!” Becky shouted, shaking with anger, outraged enough to insult her superior officer. Raynor turned to Becky.

“Look, if we wait for Confederate reinforcements, that station’s dust,” Raynor said, not trusting General Duke’s thinly veiled attempt at pacification.

“You’re right,” Becky agreed, “but what do you propose we do? Go out there and defend it ourselves?”

“Yup,” Raynor confirmed, “I’ll head out there now, do what I can.”

“If I didn’t have a relocated colony to establish right now, I’d be going out there with you,” Becky affirmed, knowing that as much as she wanted to help save the nearby town, she had a responsibility for her own colony, first and foremost.

“Oh, I know. In these past few hours, I’ve seen you display more care and consideration for your people than the Confederacy has all year,” Raynor encouraged with a smile, letting Becky know how much he valued having someone like her in a position of authority.

“You send in some militia,” Raynor requested, “and we’ll save those folks. Trust me.” Raynor shot Becky a smile to hopefully instil her trust within him, before turning to leave.

“One condition,” Becky piped up, “you put your helm cam and have it transmitting back to me,” Becky stipulated. Although her duties meant that she was unable to assist physically, she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to help in some way, even if from afar. The marshal nodded at the magistrate, before leaving hurriedly to assemble his forces to save Backwater Station.

\-----

A rumbling sound came from over the mountains, and the weary marines’ spirits were immediately lifted at the sight of an approaching Terran ship, which landed in the middle of their encampment. Marshal Jim Raynor disembarked from the dropship and surveyed the surrounding desert-like landscape. Though they were a short distance from Backwater Station, everything looked normal. He turned to regard the waiting marines.

“Glad to see you, boys,” Raynor greeted. “What exactly happened at Backwater?”

One of the marines stepped forward to fill the marshal in on the details, proceeding with a salute. Jim Raynor was well known throughout this particular area of the sector for providing aid, making him an instantly recognisable figure. “Boy, are we glad to see you, sir! Out of nowhere, a bunch of alien insectoid…” he paused, thinking how best to convey the alien threat. In the end, he decided simplicity was the best course of action. “…things, well, they attacked the station. In the end we were so overwhelmed we had no choice but to retreat. What you see here is all that’s left.”

“Damn!” Raynor grunted, fighting to keep his anger in check at the sight of a handful of marines being the only survivors.

“They definitely sound like the creatures we encountered on the way to the Wastelands,” Becky chimed in over the radio.

“Who was that?” one of the marines questioned, all of them on guard at the sound of the unannounced voice.

“Magistrate Lynch,” Raynor answered, “She’s in charge of a nearby colony, and she’s providing us some militia to help take back the Station.”

“Hello boys!” Becky responded in an enthusiastic tilt of her voice. Though the marines couldn’t see it, her words were accompanied by a wiggling wave of her fingers.

A loud rumble sounded over the mountains again. “Speakin’ of which,” Raynor mumbled, as the sight of multiple dropships approached their current position. Squads of marines, the militia which Becky agreed to send, emerged from the three dropships after they landed, all looking ready for battle.

“What do you say, boys?” Raynor enquired. “Time to kick some serious butt!” The waiting marines all cheered at the statement, ready to take back Backwater Station.

“Jim,” Becky hissed over the radio.

“Yeah?” Raynor answered.

“I’ve set our systems to scan the area between your position and Backwater,” Becky glanced at the tracking screen. “There are some unidentified xenomorphs due north of your current position. I’d assume it’s them.”

“Sounds good to me. If you can keep tracking and tell me if there are any more in our path, we should have Backwater Station back in no time.” Raynor turned to address the marines, all standing by for the order to advance. “Intel suggests that we should take the northern path into Backwater. Let’s go.” The marines advanced up the ridge, Raynor leading them astride his vulture bike. Although Becky didn’t voice them, she certainly held concerns. Vultures had a reputation for being unreliable and easily broken, failing to function at the worst of times. She kept her worries to herself though. If Jim was happy to put trust in his vehicle, she’d just have to trust his judgement.

\-----

They had only been marching for five minutes when they discovered a disturbing sight. In front of them, the ground had taken on a purple colouration. Even more disturbingly, the affected ground seemed to pulse lightly, as though it were a living organism.

“What the hell is that?” Raynor exclaimed in disbelief, his tone one of disgust. A brief static sounded to let him know that Becky had opened comms.

“Looks like the ground there is alive,” the magistrate suggested, in a calmer manner than the marshal, though really she was every bit as disgusted at the sight.

“Eurgh, it’s all thick and slimy!” one of the marines exclaimed upon touching the viscous substance with his gauntlet.

“ **DON’T** touch that!” Raynor barked, mentally cursing the marine’s foolish and reckless behaviour, “We don’t know what the hell that is, or what it can do.”

Peering through the distance, using the controls on his helmet to enhance his vision, Raynor spotted five of the same insectoid creatures who attacked them on their way to the wastelands, the threatening sight filling Becky’s screen on her end. Her skin crawled at the sight of them. She still vividly remembered the attack she’d witnessed in person the previous day. It was not an experience she’d soon forget.

The vile creatures were stood in wait next to a light brown structure which looked like it could be alive. Balanced on three spikes burrowed into the ground, a little like a living tripod, it resembled a tree trunk, with a cylinder shooting up to the sky, rounded at the top. A steady stream of green goo spilled out of a hole in its side, seeming to spread the living ground in all directions. To Becky, it looked like a twisted mockery of a tree, with the basic shape and sap substituted for the green gooey substance. As one who appreciated nature, she felt a little sickened at the sight. There was no doubt about it, they’d have to destroy the tree-like structure if they wanted to remove the living ground. And given that they knew nothing about the dangers of the living ground, it was better to be safe than sorry. Even if it didn’t pose a threat, they still couldn’t take that chance. The creatures guarding it had proven to be hostile, so there was nothing to suggest that the ground wouldn’t be too.

“If you want my advice,” Becky interjected, “I’d try a hit-and-run tactic. You saw how fast they were, might be too dangerous to take them head-on.”

“Good thinkin’,” Raynor whispered.

“Alright boys,” Raynor spoke in a hushed voice, seeking to not alert the creatures up ahead, “There are five of them little critters we fought back in the wastelands up ahead. I’ll draw their attention, and you boys be ready to open fire,” Raynor ordered. Given the inhuman speed they’d displayed earlier, he knew that Becky was absolutely right. If he led the marines to meet them head-on, they probably wouldn’t manage to take them all out before reaching them. They’d seen just how deadly they could be, having lost a marine in their last encounter with the insectoid critters.

Once he was satisfied that the marines were in position, Raynor drove forward. Sensing the vehicle approaching, the insectoid creatures perked up, each emitting a menacing roar. They all then began charging towards Raynor with inhuman speed.

“It’s showtime,” Raynor muttered to himself.

“Don’t show them our _thyme_ , we need that for soup!” Becky mischievously interjected, reminding Raynor that she was still listening in.

“Shut up Becky,” Raynor hissed, holding back a chuckle at the antics of the eccentric redhead.

With the creatures fast approaching, Raynor turned his bike around and sped off in the directing of the waiting marines. The creatures were now almost within range, but the marines couldn’t yet open fire without risking shooting Raynor. At the last second, Jim turned the direction of the bike as quickly as he could, drifting sideways, causing the wheels to spit up a cloud of dust, the daring manoeuvre rendering him no longer a viable target for friendly fire. “NOW!” Raynor yelled, ordering his men to open fire. The marines shot round after round from their guns, the creatures shrieking as the bullets tore into their flesh. The soldiers continued emptying their magazines until all five creatures lay in a heap of blood and protruding claws.

“Fine shooting boys!” Raynor complemented. “Now, you see that structure spilling goo onto the ground?” Raynor gestured to the tree-like object they’d spotted earlier. The marines nodded in agreement. “Shoot it. There’s no telling what that living ground is capable of, so it’s best that we kill it before it has the chance to kill us.” The marines acknowledged the order and fired at the object, causing it to collapse in a pile of goo. With no more goo forthcoming, the purple, living ground began to shrink into itself at a slow rate. Although they had no time to stay and watch the diminishing blanket of living ground, Raynor and Becky were satisfied that the living ground would eventually fully disperse.

“Well thank god that’s gone,” Becky commented, “Keep heading north, and you’ll find an outpost.”

The group did as the magistrate advised, finding a bunker. As they approached, they saw some SCVs emerge. SCVs served as the worker vehicles, with the pilot entering a bi-pedal mechanical suit, officially titled the T-280 Construction Vehicle, usually used for construction and resource gathering purposes. These processes were greatly enhanced with powerful mechanical arms, much faster than building things the old-fashioned way with just human arms and tools. Becky breathed a sigh of relief. At least with some SCVs around, they’d be able to repair the damage on the rusted old battle suits which her militia wore because they were the only suits available, and the Confederacy refused to grant her funding for brand new replacements. The pilots opened their comms to communicate with the newcomers.

“Thanks for the rescue! We’ve been holed up in these bunkers for days hiding from the Zerg.” The pilot’s tone sounded grateful, but quickly veered towards fear at the end.

“The Zerg?” both Raynor and Becky simultaneously questioned, realisation gripping them as they worked out that they must be the insectoid creatures they’d been fighting.

“Yeah, those insectoid monsters,” one of the pilots confirmed.

“Nasty things!” another of the pilots added, disgust coating his tone.

“Oh goody, now we know what to call them!” Becky remarked sarcastically.

“We were responsible for maintaining the outpost up ahead. If you’re here to eradicate the Zerg from Backwater, we’ll help,” one of the pilots said. Raynor nodded in approval, and the group pushed on to the outpost.

\-----

Arriving four minutes later, the outpost was comprised of two barracks, a command centre, an academy, and a couple of bunkers along its eastern entrance. It looked ready to equip a small army for battle, though the buildings were starting to rust, a fact that Raynor immediately noticed.

“These things have been out here a while. But they could be pretty useful.” Terran structures were intended to be lightweight for easy transportation. However this came at the cost of needing to be constantly maintained by SCVs. The recently rescued SCVs immediately set about restoring the rusted structures. As Raynor and the marines approached the eastern exit, they noticed both bunker doors slide open. Becky watched the feed from Raynor’s helmet cam as the hulking red figures of firebats emerged from the outpost bunkers. Firebats were a type of armoured close-quarters assault troopers. Wearing a similar battle suit to marines, though noticeably heavier, these soldiers were equipped with flamethrowers to set their enemies ablaze. As such, the soldiers occupying the suits tended to be mentally unstable pyromaniacs. The thought of such volatile individuals made Becky uneasy. In the few occasions she’d been in close vicinity with firebats, she’d always felt uncomfortable around them. She wasn’t averse to a bit of fire herself as a calculated attack when necessary, but these people took it to a whole different level. Despite being proven to be extremely useful close-quarters combatants, the sheer glee they took in incinerating anything with a pulse scared her to some degree, especially the thought of them being involved in their mission. Nevertheless, Raynor, who had had personal experience with firebats in the past and so knew how to deal with them, wouldn’t turn down their offer to help against the Zerg. Assuming they did intend to help, that is.

“Need a light?” one of the firebats asked in a deep voice, gesturing to his flamethrower.

“Howdy boys, you want to help fight the Zerg and take back Backwater Station?” Jim asked in a steady tone, successfully hiding his hesitancy at inviting potentially mentally unstable individuals into his growing army, having had numerous past opportunities to perfect it.

“You show us the Zerg, and we’ll burn those mother-“

“Mind your language!” Becky interrupted in mock offense, bellowing loud enough to be heard by the offending firebat.

“Becky, you gotta stop doin’ that,” Raynor warned, his inability to stifle a laugh undermining the seriousness he tried to convey.

“I’ll say what I like Jim Raynor, and nobody, not even you, is going to tell me different,” Becky retorted in a mostly playful tone, but with an edge of severity indicating that although they were joking around, her words were no less genuine.

After a brief pit stop, in which the SCVs repaired the damage to the marines’ suits and general wear and tear on Raynor’s vulture, the group proceeded down the ridge on the outpost’s eastern exit.

“Beep beep,” Becky piped up.

“Come on Becky, act professional,” Raynor whispered in exasperation, the redhead’s eccentric personality beginning to wear on him.

“Oh I’m sorry mister marshal, _SIR!_ ” Becky retorted in a high-pitched mockery of a salute.

“Just,” Raynor exhaled in irritation, “What is it?”

“I think you might want to know that there’s a few Zerg in your path, about ten or so of the ‘critters’,” Becky said, quoting Raynor’s description of them he used earlier. “I don’t know, just a thought. It’s fine if you really didn’t want to know,” Becky grinned, though she knew Raynor couldn’t see it. She was thoroughly enjoying pushing the marshal’s buttons to test their newfound friendship.

“Becky, there’s a time and a place for joking around, and this ain’t it.”

“I think not!” Becky gasped in an exaggerated fashion, “There’s always a time for joking around, keeps your spirits up. And no, I don’t mean alcohol. Though I suppose that can help too. Y’know I think-” Raynor grinned slightly as the fiery redhead continued on her tangent. She might not be the most level-headed, but she was right about keeping spirits up. While Becky continued talking, seemingly without end, Raynor formulated a plan of how to deal with the Zerg in their path without being too much at risk of sustaining casualties. Sure, he had a growing army of at least fifteen soldiers behind him, but those small creatures were faster than anything he had ever fought before. It didn’t matter how much firepower they had to combat them, there was still a good chance that at least one of them would get to one of them. And durable as the marines’ battle suits were, they were no match for a piercing pincer if aimed at the helmet’s visor. Suddenly a lightbulb went off in Jim’s mind. He had a few spider mines stored inside his Vulture. A couple of them should be enough to take them all out without risking a single soldier. Spiders mines were like an ordinary mine, except once they detected movement above them, they locked onto their target and moved on mechanical legs to latch onto the target before exploding. The resultant explosion would be large enough to engulf multiple Zerg. He’d used plenty of these explosive devices over the years, and they’d served him well every time.

Without coming close enough to alert the creatures, Jim carefully planted two spider mines into the ground and activated them. Now all that was left to do was to lure them into the explosive trap. Raynor drove forward towards the Zerg, earning him their attention. Satisfied that they would give chase, Raynor made a 180 degree turn and sped off back in the direction from which he came. The unsuspecting creatures would have no idea what hit them when the spider mines latched onto them and detonated. Raynor pressed the button on his console to activate the bike’s gravity hover function, propelling the bike upwards enough to avoid direct contact with the ground, and therefore avoid triggering the mines himself. Clearing the air above the mines, Raynor continued until he reached a safe distance from the imminent explosion. He turned off the bike’s engine and waited as he watched the ravenous Zerg gallop closer, completely oblivious to the danger burrowed into the surface. As they proceeded onwards, the spider mines unearthed themselves and latched onto the unlucky creatures. A second later, the mines detonated, obliterating all ten of the creatures, a gory sight splattered across the ground.

“Wow, that was a _blast_!” Becky punned, guffawing at her own joke.

“Is that really the best you could come up with?” Raynor questioned, noticing the quality level slipping.

“I’m multi-tasking here,” Becky said as she signed off on an order for her colony back in her office, “even so, my puns are _dynamite_! Get it? Because, explosions? Dynamite?”

Raynor groaned as Becky laughed uproariously again. “Alright alright, where to next?”

“According to my scanner you’re almost at the source,” Becky answered, “just keep going up that ramp ahead. Be careful though, I’m detecting what appears to be a small settlement of the creatures.”

At that moment, six of the Zerg creatures ambushed the unsuspecting group. The firebats at the front of the group showed little surprise and set to work, incinerating the creatures with their flamethrowers with glee. The creatures clearly had a harder time breaking into their armour than they had the marines, resulting in no casualties. By the time the marines had gotten into position, the creatures were already smouldering, burnt to a crisp.

“Wow, efficient,” Becky exclaimed, genuinely impressed, realising the value of firebats and why Raynor was content to overcome their overzealous minds. “Gotta love a bit of straight fire.”

\-----

The group continued up the natural rocky ramp, as per Becky’s directions. As they emerged onto the hillside, they were treated to a sight of more of the living purple ground, with more of the tree-like, goo-dripping structures facilitating its growth. More worrying though, was a new form of Zerg guarding it, Becky inhaled sharply in fear as the menacing figure came into view via Raynor’s helmet cam. Unlike the dog-sized creatures they’d battled up to this point, this creature looked more reptilian, possessing no legs and standing on its tail. Looking like an armoured-plated killing machine, it easily dwarfed the marines with its size, and even managed to dwarf the hulking firebats. It had two arms, both extended into deadly-looking claws. If they thought the creatures they fought earlier were the stuff of nightmares, this creature personified that idea tenfold.

The creature dipped its head, leading one of the marines to lower his gun, mistaking the gesture for one of peace. He would just barely live long enough to regret it, as a flap of skin on the creature’s back peeled back, shooting a volley of spines in his direction, piercing through his battle suit, tearing into his flesh. The piercing sound of the man’s death scream filled the other marines’ battle suit radios. The sound was starting to become more familiar to Becky, but still unnerved her just as much as it had the first time she’d heard it. She wasn’t yet numb to the grim reality of combat, as many of her superiors were. And so, she had to fight the urge to mute the feed to preserve her sanity. Ultimately, she knew that she couldn’t mute the feed at any point, in case Raynor needed to communicate any vital information. She just had to bear it.

The remaining marines opened fire at the creature, who bowed its head for another volley. The firebats continued to shoot fire at the creature, but its hardened carapace proved fire-resistant. Another marine screamed in agony as a second volley of spines ripped through his skin. The creature wouldn’t live to fire a third volley, as the marines’ bullets finally managed to rip through the creature’s carapace, finding a soft spot on its head.

Raynor took a moment to honour the fallen marines, before ordering the firebats to torch the structures generating the living blanket. Proceeding forwards, their eyes were greeted with a disturbing sight.

“What the hell did they do to that command centre?!” a firebat exclaimed. In front of them lay a command centre, the building usually utilised as a base of operations, the heart of any settlement. However this one was different. Throbbing yellow veins covered the exterior, with a large object resembling a beating heart on one of the walls leading up to the roof. It looked infested. The dismal sight clearly unsettled everyone present, with scoffs of disgust clearly audible. Becky felt sick to her stomach at the sight, knowing that whatever had happened, could just as easily happen to her settlement.

“Whatever it is, it ain’t natural,” Raynor interjected. He turned to the firebats, “Burn it boys.” The firebats didn’t need to be told twice, as they began torching the metal structure with glee. The marines joined in the destruction of the vile abomination, sending a hail of bullets ripping through the metal exterior. The command centre collapsed in a twisted metal heap and the alien heart stopped beating. Satisfied that the infestation had been purged, Jim Raynor turned to his troops, when static was heard over his suit’s radio. This time, it wasn’t Becky’s light-hearted tone communicating. It was the very person whose nonchalance forced their hand in the first place. At the very sound of his voice, Raynor and Becky’s hearts collectively dropped.

“Marshal Raynor,” General Duke’s voice boomed over the radio, clearly heard by all present. A roaring bellowed over the horizon, as they watched a Battlecruiser arrive. Becky’s heart sank at the sight of the immense spaceship filling the monitor, its multiple twin-cannon laser defences aimed directly at the comparatively miniscule group on the ground, poised to fire. The insignia on the ship’s many wings were clear as day to anyone looking; this was Norad II, General Duke’s flagship battlecruiser. The transmission was no longer confined to radio, as the voice bellowed from the battlecruiser, the excessively loud volume reverberating around the surrounding valleys. Listening intently, Becky couldn’t help but think that it was true what they said about people with superiority complexes: they sure loved the sound of their own voice.

General Duke’s voice continued to emanate, his Southern drawl persistently noticeable, “By destroying a vital Confederate installation, you and your men have violated standing colonial law.” Raynor bristled in anger at the man’s density. Didn’t he know that the so-called “Confederate installation” was home to an alien infestation? There’s no telling what could have happened if they’d let it be. Despite Becky brimming with rage, something inside her compelled her to remain silent, knowing that she couldn’t help the situation if she was also implicated. “As of right now, you’re under arrest,” General Duke continued, his tone one of utter contempt “I suggest you throw down your weapons and come peaceably.” Becky gasped in shock, white hot anger brimming under the surface, her outrage building by the second. Jim Raynor was a good man, and did not deserve to be imprisoned for saving the town, even if it did mean destroying one of the Confederacy’s precious installations.

Meanwhile, Raynor and his men complied, voluntarily throwing down their weapons at their marshal’s command. Raynor was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew there was simply no way out of this one. It didn’t matter how much heart and determination he and his men had, they were simply in position to take on a fully armed battlecruiser and survive. At the very least, he could at least know that he had retained his integrity, having fought for what he knew was right. No matter how harsh his impending imprisonment might be, nobody could take that away from him. And not for one second did he regret it. He saved the town from an alien threat, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

It was in that moment, as Becky watched a number of Confederate dropships land to take Raynor and his men away for imprisonment, that she vowed to do whatever it took to free former marshal Jim Raynor. From the safety of her desk, Becky’s eyebrows narrowed, and her lips curled into a defiant smirk, as the gears in her brain began to spin, concocting a myriad of schemes to spring Jim Raynor from prison. Heaven help any wardens when the Man came around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so that's Raynor sent to jail! For those readers who are unfamiliar with Raynor, I hope you're enjoying the character. I know this story is supposed to focus on the Four Horsewomen (trust me, the other three are coming), but Raynor is probably the most important character in the Starcraft universe, especially to the story which this Ao3 story is an adaptation of, so he will remain a big focus. I'll try to keep the focus equally on the Horsewomen at the same time though. 
> 
> So will Becky succeed in her plan to bust Raynor out of prison? Or will she need some help?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and are enjoying this story so far. Please leave kudos and comments, they really help!


	3. Desperate Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Raynor's imprisonment and facing an imminent Zerg attack, Becky receives communication from a surprising source, offering military aid. A commander is sent to aid her in her defence, and the two women may not necessarily get along.

The metal creaked as its occupant rolled out of her bunk in a messy heap, strands of blonde hair swinging in front of her eyeline to obscure her vision, almost tripping over her own feet in her drowsy state. Her body was still waking itself up from the unexpected interruption. Through her dreams, her subconscious had detected her adjutant’s beeping jolting through, pulling her back to reality.

She staggered her way to her desk, waiting for the feeling to fully return to her lanky limbs. Fingertips wiped away at her sleep-encrusted eyes, desperately attempting to wake herself up. As reluctant as she was to prematurely end her sleep, she knew she had a duty. There was no time to rest when duty called. A switch was flipped, the adjutant’s robotic voice filling her quarters.

“Message received at 0650 hours from Arcturus Mengsk. Message standing by.”

The commander let out a groan, knowing that her day was just beginning, and there wasn’t any possibility of going back to bed. Not when the leader of the organisation she served saw fit to call upon her. She reluctantly pressed the button to allow her adjutant to proceed, anticipating Mengsk’s dulcet tones filling her eardrums.

“Good morning Commander, I trust you got enough sleep? Whether you did or you didn’t, I have a little job for you to do. There’s a little colony on Mar Sara, I’ve sent you the coordinates. They’re facing the Zerg on all sides, and we’re going to evacuate them. I want you to arrive there with a detachment of soldiers to defend the colonists until our transport ships arrive. Don’t dawdle mind, they need your help.”

Working hard to erase the scowl that had unwittingly crossed her face at the prospect of heading back into battle without a good night’s rest, the stoic blonde commander readied herself to leave.

\-----

Becky’s knuckles turned white from the exertion of gripping the metal desk, the muscles in her arms taut. The redheaded magistrate had been in this position for many minutes now. Exactly how long, Becky Lynch couldn’t say. Any physical discomfort was of no consequence to her. Her mind was too busy working on hyperdrive, formulating her next move.

Even hours after watching her friend, Marshal Jim Raynor, being arrested for destroying an infested Confederate command centre, anger still raged inside her mind. Even with her misgivings about her commanding officers, she had still believed that the Confederacy looked out for its own and could forgive Raynor for doing what had been necessary. But it was all a lie, a lie she’d told herself in the hopes that she’d eventually believe it. Now she knew the truth. The Confederacy didn’t care for its people. It didn’t matter that Raynor had potentially saved the planet by destroying an alien infestation, knowing that they were ignorant of its capability. All that mattered to the Confederacy was that Raynor had broken a law and had to be punished accordingly.

She’d wasted no time in lodging an official complaint concerning General Duke after Raynor’s arrest. As furious as she had been, her professional experience in dealing with her superiors allowed her to temporarily put her anger to the side, concentrating on communicating her outrage without allowing her emotions to ruin her complaint’s legitimacy. If she had, she knew it would be easily dismissed.

She’d vowed to herself that she’d do whatever it took to spring Raynor from prison, but what exactly could she do? She was still a Confederate Magistrate, and whatever she did, she’d have to tread carefully. One false move and her cover would be blown. She’d not only lose her position, but risk imprisonment too. Although she no longer cared for her position under a corrupt and immoral government in the long run, she knew it was vital in the short term. Without a position of power, she’d be powerless to act in secret against the very government she’d sworn to serve. How would she be able to save Jim Raynor then?

A stray lock of red hair blew across Becky’s eyeline as she puffed out an exhale. She forced herself to release a steady stream of even breaths in an attempt to calm herself down, her mind having become increasingly frantic as she had been musing in her own head. She’d finally managed to steady her thoughts when her monitor flickered with life, the artificial adjutant coming online.

“Receiving incoming transmission,” the robotic female voice announced, devoid of any emotion. Something that oddly helped Becky’s state of mind. “Com-link established.”

Becky’s stomach churned with anger as General Duke’s scarred, gruff visage filled her screen. He had an odd sneer on his face, as though he had known of Becky’s involvement, and saw Raynor’s arrest as putting her in her place. Her fists clenched at her sides, though she made sure that her facial features would not betray her true feelings. For now, she’d have to play ball.

“I got your message, Magistrate,” General Duke started, a clear disdain coating his tone, “and frankly I don’t care what you have to say about Confederate regulations.” The General narrowed his eyes, the slits making prominent the hateful glint in his pupils, leaning forward into the camera to look even more directly at Becky. The proceeding words were spoken lowly, a deadly seriousness to them, borderline threatening. “You damn fringe world yokels are all alike, don’t know where your loyalties lie. Y’all have a real good day now, y’hear?”

The disgust and loathing in his voice was clear. The only thing that would make his position even clearer was if he had spat in her general direction. The words he ended his transmission with felt very out of place. If spoken with the feeling the words were intended to convey, they would have had a genuine warmth. As it was, the words were hollow and disingenuous, a mockery of their usual purpose.

Becky released a sigh of relief she hadn’t even realised she was holding as General Duke’s visage disappeared from the screen. A beep indicated that the AI adjutant was ready to convey a further message. After the disdainful tone she’d just had to listen to, Becky would be grateful to listen to a neutral voice. She prepared to listen intently.

“Transmission ended. The report you requested is ready. Sixteen outland stations have reported sightings of the alien invaders identified as Zerg. The Confederates have arrested all standing militia forces and continue to avoid action against the Zerg. Three stations have fallen to the Zerg already. We’ve been unable to locate any source of military relief except…” the adjutant paused, as though uneasy to reveal. Becky chuckled with mirth. For a machine devoid of emotion, the adjutant certainly had a sense of dramatic effect. “…the extremist faction known as the Sons of Korhal.”

Becky furrowed her brow in deep thought. The Sons of Korhal? Surely she couldn’t even consider allying with them? She’d defended her colony from those terrorists on numerous occasions, was she really going to trust them? She relaxed her slumped shoulders, realising that she didn’t really have a choice. As they used to say, beggars can’t be choosers. She needed help, and she needed it desperately. If that help came in the form of an extremist faction, then so be it. She’d have to forge new alliances. She knew she damn sure couldn’t trust the Confederacy a moment longer.

The adjutant interrupted her reverie, with a statement that meant Becky had to make a choice right there and then. “Their liaison is holding on line.” It was now or never. Setting her jaw in determination, Becky knew what she had to do. Flicking a switch on her desk, a man’s face appeared on her screen. With a thick but well-maintained beard and combed hair that wouldn’t extend past his ears, he certainly didn’t look like the savage terrorist the Confederacy had painted him as. If the dark grey banner with the red insignia on the wall behind him didn’t give it away, his signature blue uniform would. This was the Sons of Korhal’s leader.

“Good day, Magistrate. My name is Arcturus Mengsk, and I represent the Sons of Korhal.” His voice still had the same familiar drawl she was used to hearing from her Confederate superiors, but his manner of speaking was quicker paced, a welcome change. “You’re familiar with the Confederate propaganda surrounding my group, but your reputation suggests you’ll see past it. It’s never been our practise to operate in any one place for long, but these Zerg don’t look like they’re going to wait.” A nervous chuckle emerged from his lips. Although this would be inconspicuous to most, Becky knew it was his way of prodding her into accepting his offer by feigning empathy. Genuine or not, she didn’t much care at the moment. “I’m going to make you an offer. Magistrate, I’d like to help you out by sending down a number of transports to your colony and evacuating any survivors.”

Becky didn’t respond, too focused on considering his offer, a fact that Mengsk picked up on. He cleared his throat, drawing Becky’s attention from out of her thoughts back to him.

“You know, of course, that my organisation operates outside the bounds of Confederate law. That’s why they spread their lies and misinformation. If you decide to accept our help, you’ll be branded as an outlaw too.” His tone was firm, making it clear in no uncertain terms what she’d be agreeing to. His features softened, in an attempt to appeal to her heroic nature. “But, it’s a chance to save those people.”

Becky opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the adjutant, an alarm blaring through the background. Not loud enough to drown out the artificial intelligence’s words, but enough to focus on. “Priority alert! Evacuation zone under attack by Zerg forces. Distress beacon activated at 1220.”

“Time to make a stand, Magistrate,” Mengsk warned, his tone a combination of kindness but firm, ensuring that she knew that although he understood her reluctance, time was quickly running out. She had to make her decision now.

“Alright, send your transports. It’s time to evacuate these colonists,” Becky responded, her tone exasperated. Internally, she was very uneasy about this.

“Good, I’ve already dispatched one of my commanders to your location. You should expect her presently.”

Mengsk’s face, complete with a victorious smile, faded from the monitor as the transmission ended. Becky couldn’t help but let out a defeated groan. Mengsk had played her, and he knew it. He knew she’d be helpless, and so desperate that she’d have no choice but to give in. So confident was he that he’d already sent a commander ahead! What had Becky gotten herself into? What exactly was she signing herself up for, throwing her lot in with the rebels? Would this decision ultimately doom her colony, and herself?

Becky shook her head to clear her thoughts. There was no time to ponder over that now; only time would tell. And right now, it was time to prepare her colony for evacuation. She’d ally herself with the devil if it meant keeping her colony safe. If the Sons of Korhal were prepared to back her up with military relief, then so be it.

\-----

“Are our defences secure?” the question was directed to an SCV, who was putting the finishing touches on a bunker, sparks flying as the vehicle’s arm welded the last strip of protective metal onto the structure.

“Yes ma’am!” was the proud response to Becky’s question.

“Good,” Becky exhaled a sigh of relief through her nose. At least now when the Zerg struck, they’d be prepared to hold them off long enough for the evacuation ships to arrive. “I’ll be-“ she was cut off by a nearby marine, who had been sprinting to her commanding magistrate as fast as her armour could allow.

“Ma’am, we have ships inbound,” the marine managed to get out before hunching over to catch her breath.

“What?” Becky responded with an incredulous eyebrow raise. “The evacuation ships can’t possibly be here yet.”

Becky made her way over to the command centre, where she was greeted by a scanner screen indicating that three ships were indeed fast approaching, one much larger than the other two.

“How long until they arrive?” Becky asked the console operator, leaning a hand on the back of his desk chair, tilting her head to look directly at him. Looking into her eyes would reveal a previously fierce determination somewhat shaken by this unexpected development.

“ETA six minutes ma’am.”

“Then I suppose it’s time to for the welcoming party,” Becky said, shifting her tone and expression to be more light-hearted, having realised that no matter the unknown, she had to inspire confidence in her soldiers. Those ships could be friend or foe. Until they landed, she wouldn’t know which. In light of her present situation, she decided to be optimistic. Even so, she picked up her gauss rifle and scrambled in search of as many troops as she could spare to pull from her defences to meet the unidentified strangers.

\-----

The familiar whir of engines sounded as the three ships descended in unison, looking every bit a cohesive unit. Upon seeing the ships branded with their insignia, Becky had breathed a sigh of relief. In the rush of hurrying to prepare proper defences, she’d completely forgotten about Mengsk sending a commander ahead of the evacuation ships. This must be the commander he spoke of. The ships glided smoothly to the ground, with only the smallest impact being heard as they touched down. Becky couldn’t help but admire the piloting skills of such a smooth landing. She had little time to think upon this, as the hatchways to the two smaller ships opened, and battalions of troops poured out. Marching forward as a unit, they made evident their unblemished organisation. The rhythmic chorus of boots crunching across the dirt as they marched could be plainly heard, the unit being made up of a mixture of marines and firebats. Although her time watching the firebats assist Raynor had quelled her nerves surrounding them, those nerves still hadn’t dissipated entirely. Truthfully, she doubted she would ever stop feeling uneasy around soldiers of such wanton destruction.

Becky was about to open her mouth to greet the newcomers, when the hatch to the main ship opened, and surrounded by the spotlight of the lights from the ship, a woman emerged. A tall blonde woman, her regal posture radiating an air of authority. She wore a blue uniform, with her rank and surname embroidered on the top pocket. Her collar was raised, looking like an imitation of feathers, a feature that Becky stifled a scoff at.

“Greetings Magistrate Lynch. I am Commander Flair, and as I’m sure you’re aware, I have been dispatched to assist you with your colony’s defence.” The blonde’s voice was smooth, professional and business-like, a fact that Becky took as a personal challenge to rectify.

“Commander Flair, huh? Well you certainly have a _flair_ for the dramatic,” Becky grinned while bouncing her eyebrows, a deliberate decision to provoke the blonde. The smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Flair’s lips, before forcing herself to remove it as soon as it had presented itself. She schooled her features back into the stern mask she had arrived with.

“Amusing, I’m sure. But this is not the time for jokes.”

“Oh,” the redhead scoffed in mock offense, “it’s always the time for jokes,” Becky retorted. Flair exhaled sharply in frustration, the redhead’s defiantly mischievous nature already beginning to grind on her nerves.

“Magistrate Lynch, there is no time for your cavalier attitude,” Flair reprimanded, “in case you had forgotten, there is a Zerg wave advancing towards our present position, and we need to hold them off until our rescue ships arrive to evacuate the colonists.” Flair jabbed a finger in Becky’s direction, “YOUR colonists.” Commander Flair turned to walk away to assess the defences, before she was stopped by the voice of the magistrate she was already beginning to regret getting acquainted with.

“Jeez, you got a stick up your ass princess?” Becky responded, initially exhaling in exasperation, before her voice took on a slightly angered tone.

That got Commander Flair’s attention. Whirling around as quick as the wind, her facial features a maelstrom of fury at the insolence of the women she’d been sent to assist. She almost shouted, but reminded herself to remain calm, taking her voice’s volume down a notch before she opened her mouth. Becky could feel the anger radiating off of the blonde’s pointed glare, though by this point she didn’t care about upsetting the commander. Even if Flair’s voice wasn’t quite yelling, her tone screamed with anger in her words “Excuse me?!”

“Is this really how you run your unit? Not the slightest hint of a smile allowed when in the line of duty?” Becky questioned. All trace of jest had melted from her features, replaced by a cold stare directed at the commander as she continued to ask rhetorical questions she didn’t really expect an answer to. “Well here’s how I operate; I joke and smile to keep my soldiers’ morale high. Low morale causes soldiers to give up, to not fight with every fibre of their being, and damnit, I need my soldiers to fight as hard as they possibly can, with all the guts they can muster. I need them to fight for the good of the colony, so that we can survive another day on this hellhole of a planet, because in these days surviving is all we can do!” Becky stood there catching her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her rage ebbing away.

Commander Flair stood there completely dumbfounded, stunned by the sudden burst of passion from the woman she’d initially marked down as a fool, a clown; someone who didn’t take the protection of her colony seriously and therefore unfit to be in command. In just a matter of seconds, the fiery redhead had wiped that assessment away.

Without a single word of response from the woman her impassioned speech had been directed towards, Becky turned and started walking away. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, throwing out one last passing comment. “They say laughter is the best form of medicine y’know, but it’s also a pretty nifty motivational tool.”

Even with the distance between them increasing, Flair was too shocked to move. She was used to anyone with the audacity to publicly challenge her melting in shame under her rebuke. But this, this was new. She thought she’d figured the redhead out the instant she’d opened her mouth, but clearly it wasn’t only looks that could be deceiving, but words too. Magistrate Lynch had gone from a buffoon to an enigma in a matter of minutes. Shaking her head to clear her spiralling mind, Flair regained the wherewithal to follow the redhead into the command centre.

\-----

Commander Flair found Magistrate Lynch giving instructions to the console operator. She watched and listened as Lynch calmly communicated with him her requests in a friendly manner that one wouldn’t expect to be a conversation with a commanding officer and their subordinate. She was speaking to him more as a friend, asking rather than ordering. With a newfound respect for the baffling woman, Flair waited until she was done before clearing her throat to gain the redhead’s attention.

“Magistrate Lynch, I believe we may have started off on the wrong foot. There will be time to correct that later, but for now, we need to be ready,” Flair made sure to keep her expression kindly to encourage the redhead to work with her rather than against her. “What’s the status of the settlement’s defences?”

Becky stared at the woman for a few seconds before answering, maintaining a fixed glare: a tactic to assert her authority. Commander Flair may have arrived to help defend the colony, but Becky was still in charge as magistrate. To her credit, Flair didn’t flinch or act surprised, she knew exactly what Magistrate Lynch was up to. The two continued their unvoiced power play for a couple more seconds before Becky decided that enough time had been wasted.

“Bunkers have been erected on the eastern and western entrances. We didn’t have enough marines to fill them before, but with your troops, now we do.”

“What about turrets?” Flair asked, tilting her head slightly. With the knowledge that the Zerg were capable of breeding winged creatures, the idea that the magistrate may have overlooked this important part of defence troubled her to no end.

“What makes you think we’d need anti-air?” Becky asked, puzzled by the blonde’s question. While the Zerg may be a new and relatively unknown threat, the only ones she’d fought had been confined to the ground. The very idea of them taking to the skies filled her with dread, a chill travelling up her spine. “The only Zerg we’ve encountered have been on the ground.”

“Trust me, we’ll need turrets. I don’t blame you for your ignorance, but the Zerg have been known to use flyers in their attacks. We’ll need to prepare for every possibility.”

One word emerged from Becky’s mouth at the newly imparted knowledge, the magistrate’s blood running cold at the information. “Fuck.”

Flair struggled to contain her smile, but she quickly succumbed, allowing a quiet and brief chuckle at the redhead’s abrupt but concise choice of wordage to exit her lips. “Yes, quite.”

Before Flair had the chance to advise the magistrate on the next move, Becky sprang into action, exiting the command centre and striding up to an SCV returning to base after completing construction on the final bunker. To Flair’s surprise, this SCV had clearly been customised, with the words “Blue Collar Solid” stamped across its midsection.

“Otis! We’re going to need missile turrets lining the settlement’s advances. Can you get that done for me big fella?” Becky asked, staring up at the large construction vehicle its wide driver inhabited. Her eyebrows were narrowed to communicate the order’s urgency, but her eyes twinkled to inspire confidence and to not appear too harsh towards her workers.

“Ooh yeah, sure thing boss! Me and Tucky will get it built, no problem!” Otis Dozovic communicated exuberantly from inside the SCV, the confidence on full display from his magistrate reassuring him.

As the SCV eagerly scampered away to commence construction, Commander Flair couldn’t help but admire the redheaded magistrate’s efficiency. As a military officer, Flair was used to soldiers blindly following whatever orders were barked at them, and she just accepted that that was the way the chain of command operated. But here was Magistrate Lynch inspiring her workers and troops into completing whatever task she asked of them, without even raising her voice. Better yet, she wasn’t even behaving like their commanding officer; she was using a personable approach, talking to them as a peer rather than their commander. She didn’t order, she asked. Had Flair not seen the effect Lynch had on her people, she’d think of her approach as a foolish one, one that would only work in a fairytale. But here was living proof that her personable approach achieved results.

When Flair first arrived here, she’d assumed she’d be the one to teach this magistrate a thing or two about being a leader. But clearly, it was her that was being taught new tricks.

\-----

“You’re…what?!” Commander Flair stood dumbfounded yet again at Magistrate Lynch, her mouth wide open in surprise, something that was becoming a more frequent occurrence the more time she spent around the redhead.

“Are ya deaf now Flair?” Becky questioned, tilting her head as though it was a genuine question, though both women easily detected the barely concealed sarcasm.

“But you’re a magistrate! Your duty is to oversee the colony, not stand on the front lines and risk being killed!” Flair exclaimed, raising her eyebrows in shock, hardly believing the redhead’s intentions. Commander Flair had been organising the line of defence with Lynch, when the magistrate casually mentioned that she’d be there to lead her militia in the defence.

“You’re right, I am a magistrate. A magistrate who leads by example. I can’t in good conscience ask my marines to risk their lives defending this place while I sit back and relax behind the safety of my desk,” Becky’s tone lowered as her explanation became more impassioned, a pout on her face between breaths as she glared into Flair’s eyes. “That’s not me, that’s never been me. I’m going to be there right beside the people I’m sworn to protect, and that’s final,” Becky insisted with a steely determination that Flair had seldom seen in any commander or officer she’d come across.

Flair could see wisdom in Lynch’s words, as reckless as her intentions may be. From what little she’d observed of the colony and how it functioned, it was built on mutual trust and respect between Magistrate Lynch and her people. If Lynch were to ensure her own safety while ordering her militia to risk their lives, such uncharacteristically callous behaviour would go against everything Lynch stood for. Nevertheless, she had one more thing to ask of Lynch, to persuade her to rethink her decision.

“And if you fall? What happens to the colony then?” Flair asked quietly, her words barely more than a whisper, not wishing anyone to overhear.

“That won’t happen,” Becky responded succinctly, her eyes narrowed in determination. “I’ll make sure of it.”

\-----

**ETA 30 minutes until evacuation ships’ arrival**

It didn’t take long for the Zerg to launch their first attack. Otis Dozovic and Tucker Knight, a duo affectionately referred to by all in the settlement as Heavy Machinery after their impressive expertise and efficiency when it came to building work, were still busy constructing the newly requested missile turrets when the first strike came.

“Zerglings incoming!” Commander Flair barked from her vantage point, warning the defenders. There were about eight of the insectoid dog-sized creatures galloping down the bridge.

“Is that the most original name you could come up with?” Becky asked with a smug smirk.

“It’s simple and it works. Have you got a problem with simple?” Flair retorted, eyebrows raising in annoyance.

“No no, if it works it works,” Becky conceded, something that the blonde didn’t expect. She’d come to expect the magistrate to be argumentative for the sake of it. But here she was giving up an argument before it began. Clearly the redhead was a puzzle she was still a huge leap away from figuring out.

A round of gunfire erupted from the barrels of the rifles wielded by the marines inside the bunker. With most of them belonging to Commander Flair’s army, they were highly trained and disciplined soldiers with pinpoint accuracy. Not a single one of the zerglings managed to reach the bunker before being shot dead.

“Was that it?” Becky arched her eyebrow incredulously before turning to Commander Flair. “I thought you said a huge attack wave, possibly with flyers, would be coming for us?”

Flair sighed. Clearly Magistrate Lynch wasn’t experienced in warfare tactics. “This was just a scout party. Coming to assess the security of our defences. Now the more deadly creatures of the Zerg Swarm will know what we have prepared for them.”

“Wait, how could the rest of the creatures know?” Becky had a confused expression on her face, the first time Flair could recall Lynch looking out of sorts. “We just shot them all dead, with none of them surviving to make it back to the others.”

“All evidence we have surrounding the Zerg has pointed towards them having a sort of hive mind.” Flair calmly explained, taking into account the fact that the Zerg were still an unknown to Lynch. Hell, even the Sons of Korhal’s knowledge on them was limited. “If one Zerg knows something, all the rest know it too.”

Becky opened her mouth to respond when a wave of flying Zerg creatures were spotted, flying towards them with ill intent. As they flew closer and closer, Becky could make out more of their appearance. And it horrified her. Two leathery wings flapped menacingly to keep the creature airborne. Eight beady eyes in a shade between orange and red glared devilishly at the settlement’s defences, a glint of glee at their impending attack. Spikes jutted along the entirety of the creature’s serpentine body. The lower end of its body terminated in a wide, open hole. What purpose the hole served, she didn’t want to find out. Unfortunately, just like everything else in this cruel world, fate had other plans for her.

“MUTALISKS IMBOUND!” Commander Flair yelled, even though she was certain that everyone else had spotted them already.

Shaking herself out of her fear, Becky glanced at the missile turret, Otis putting the finishing touches on it. “OTIS!” She yelled down to grab his attention, raising her voice for the first time under pressure before taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Is the turret ready to fire?”

Otis nodded, pressing the activation button on the turret’s base before quickly scurrying away from the battlefield. The structure turned, locking onto the rapidly approaching mutalisks.

Before the turret had the opportunity to fire, one of the mutalisks broke away from the pack, having spotted the two women at the top floor of the bunker. Narrowing all eight of its eyes with monstrous intent, a liquid substance was shot out of the hole at the end of its tail. The liquid travelled towards Becky, whizzing through the air. Flair grabbed Lynch out of the way at the last second, and the gooey substance hit the wall behind where she had been standing a second ago. The clearly acidic goo hissed against the stone before fizzling away.

Becky rapidly gasped repeatedly, struggling to recover her breath; her eyes wide open in panic after the near-death experience. Flair put her hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, silently urging her to breathe. Much to Becky’s chagrin and Charlotte’s surprise, the contact from the blonde actually worked, allowing the redhead to refocus her thoughts and bring her mind back from tipping over the edge of fear. Without a word, Commander Flair turned away and went right back to directing the defending troops. Becky remained in place, wondering why the militant commander had had such an effect on her. Although she wouldn’t say she held any hatred for the blonde, the arrogant attitude the commander had held upon arrival had irked the redhead to put it mildly, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t deliberately making comments to get under the blonde’s skin. So why had her mind and body responded as though Flair was her calming light, soothing her in her panic?

While Becky was figuring it out, a whirring and whooshing sound erupted as the turrets shot their missiles at the mutalisks. The missiles slammed into the vile creatures’ bodies, tearing them apart. Broken wings fluttered to the ground as the mutalisks’ carcasses slammed into the dirt, sending dirt clouds into the air upon impact.

“Whew! That’s another dead wave of mutas!” one of Commander Flair’s marines exclaimed in joy at the carnage.

“Don’t celebrate yet Private Sabbatelli,” Flair sternly rebuked, fanning the flames of overconfidence, “they’re sure to send more after they failed. They’re just testing our defences.”

Flair turned to Becky, her blue-green eyes looking in at concern at the magistrate, who was still clearly recovering from her terrifying experience. Despite this being a regular occurrence for her in the line of battle, she knew the magistrate was used to being behind her desk, not being in the line of fire. For that, she could empathise with how scared the redhead must be, despite what the redhead must think of her after their first meeting. She suspected that the bravado the magistrate was put on was all an act, and that inside she was fearful of the Zerg. But she didn’t let that stop her from doing what was right, no matter how foolish it may be to put herself in harm’s way, given her position. That type of guts deserved to be applauded, and Flair already held respect for her, despite the redhead’s attempts to rile the blonde up.

“I’m going to go check the other approach’s defences, will you be okay here?” Flair asked Lynch kindly, her eyes communicating her sympathy for the difficult situation the redhead put herself in.

“Ah, I’ll be fine,” Becky responded with a dismissive wave. “No need to coddle me, Flair.”

Flair nodded with a smile, barely managing to contain the laugh that threatened to erupt from her lips at the redhead’s brash response. As she descended down the stairs and exited the bunker, she finally allowed the laughter to release itself.

\-----

**ETA 15 minutes until evacuation ships’ arrival**

As the attack raged on at the other end of the settlement, Commander Flair approached the SCV that was still busy constructing the missile turret. The vehicle’s occupant was clearly leaner but much taller than the other SCV driver she’d observed earlier, but this vehicle also had “Blue Collar Solid” stamped across its midsection.

Flair cleared her throat to get his attention. “Tucky, I presume?”

The SCV continued working with his back to her, but he engaged in the conversation. “I take it you’ve spoken to my brother Otis? Tucker Knight, at your service.”

“Commander Flair,” she answered to the unspoken exchange of names. “Tell me Tucker, what do you make of Magistrate Lynch?” Flair asked, a sudden urge to learn more about the redhead from one of her subordinates overtaking her.

“She’s a fair leader. More than fair actually. So fair that most of the time she doesn’t seem like a commander at all. At least not in the military sense of the word. No offense,” Tucker answered.

“None taken,” Flair responded. She knew first-hand how some commanders treated their troops, as though they were little more than disposable shields. The stigma was certainly valid. She gestured for Tucker to continue with his evaluation of Lynch. “Go on.”

“She’s the ideal leader really. Seems too good to be true, but she is. She doesn’t give orders or demands; she asks us to do whatever is required. And because we all trust her, we’re always all too happy to do whatever she needs.” Tucker paused as he focused on connecting cables together to power the turret. “There’s not a person here who doesn’t have absolute trust in her. That’s a kind of loyalty that can’t be bought, or inspired through fear. Loyalty built through mutual respect and admiration. The strongest and most unbreakable loyalty of all.” Tucker paused to allow the passion behind his words to sink in, before lowering his voice. “She always keeps going no matter what, keeping this colony secure is of the utmost importance to her. It doesn’t happen often, but between you and me, sometimes I can see just how tired and overwhelmed she can get. Make no mistake, her carefree attitude is a façade to keep herself sane.”

Although Flair couldn’t see Tucker’s face, she was glad for the fact that he wasn’t looking at her either. If he did, he would’ve seen her watery eyes, having been touched by the love the colonists had for their personable leader, who’s sheer determination had earned her even more respect in Flair’s book. She slammed her eyes shut, blinking away the tears that had threatened to spill and spoil her stoic persona.

“I see,” Flair said quietly, her voice thankfully barely sounding a hint of cracking, a negligible amount which the SCV operator didn’t show any hint of picking up on. “Thank you Tucker. Is the turret finished?”

“Anytime. Yes, the turret is now operational,” Tucker answered, turning to Flair to regard her for the first time. “Happy to help anybody who’s come to help Becky.” Tucker leaned forward, lowering his voice to conceal his words from the defending soldiers around them. “Anyone who’s here to help lift the weight off her shoulders deserves to know the truth.

Commander Flair nodded in understanding, finding herself unable to speak in response to the unwavering trust Tucker had in Lynch. And now that Flair knew her forename, she now had an informal way to address Lynch. Becky. Flair rolled the name around on the tip of her tongue as she walked back to the other side of the settlement. Becky used the personable approach with her people, and now it was time for Flair to gain her trust by communicating with her the same way.

\-----

**ETA 10 minutes until evacuation ships’ arrival**

“Where’ve ya been, lass? You’ve been missing out on all the fun!” Becky gestured to the gathering of Zerg corpses on the ground, a visual announcement of the attacks attempted on this side of the settlement.

Having realised why Becky acted the way she did in light of Tucker’s information, Flair couldn’t help but smile. Thanks to Tucker, she was finally beginning to figure the redhead out.

“I’ve been getting the defences ready, considering _someone_ neglected to account for anti-air,” Flair retorted with a light-hearted tone, hoping Becky would pick up on it and see the effort she was trying to make. It seemed to work, as Becky stuck her tongue out in a ridiculous display that would normally be unbefitting someone in a leadership position. But somehow for Becky, it worked. She was truly an anomaly. Flair failed to stifle a chuckle. “Tucker’s got the missile turret at the other end operational.”

“Oh, so you’ve met Tucker? Strapping lad he is, him and his brother are the best SCV operators a colony could hope to-“ Becky’s words were interrupted by one of Flair’s marines shouting to warn them of an impending attack.

Becky peered forward, horrified to see a horde of Zerg charging towards their bunker. This was no longer a scouting force, they were coming to destroy them. Using her binoculars, she looked at the approach on the opposite side of the settlement which Flair had just come from. Just as she’d suspected, an equal wave of attackers was approaching that side as well. There was just one thing for it, she and Flair would have to split up to command both sides if they hoped to be successful in repelling the Zerg invaders.

“Commander,” Becky turned to Flair, grabbing her attention. “We’re going to have to split up. I’ll get over to the other side and oversee their defences.”

Becky began to move away, but she was stopped by Flair grabbing hold of her arm. Becky looked over her shoulder in confusion before turning around.

“Becky,” Flair said warmly, talking to her in a tone of voice as though she were a friend rather than acquaintances who hadn’t learned to get along yet. Becky was shocked, given that her and Commander Flair hadn’t reached a first name basis yet, and Flair seemed to be the type to insist on keeping all communication formal. “Keep yourself safe,” Flair urged before releasing her grip. But Becky didn’t turn to go just yet.

“You do the same…” Becky trailed off, staring into Flair’s eyes while waiting for the answer to an unspoken question.

Flair picked up on it, realising that Lynch was waiting for an exchange of information. Her name. “Charlotte,” she answered.

“I will if you will, Charlotte,” Becky winked at Charlotte, a wide grin curving across her face before turning and running down the stairs and towards the opposing side of the settlement.

\-----

**ETA 5 minutes until evacuation ships’ arrival**

Becky had made it to the other side of the settlement just in time to direct the defence before the Zerg wave arrived. Currently she was shouting suggestions on which of the creatures to focus on in between taking cover and shooting at the foul aliens herself with her gauss rifle. She wasn’t much of a battlefield commander, but she was doing her best with everything that she had.

The Zerg had brought the brunt of their forces to bear on the small colony, with zerglings, the spine-shooting serpentine ground forces Charlotte had informed her were known as hydralisks, as well as mutalisks soaring above them. The three combined forms of Zerg were wreaking havoc on their defences, pummelling them in an attempt to break them. But Becky and her defenders would not break. They continued retaliating, shooting dead as many Zerg as they could. Through Becky’s instructions, they remained focused, functioning as a unit to strike where needed. She ordered the Siege Tanks behind the front lines on where to fire, careful of ensuring that the damage from the tanks’ explosions wouldn’t impact her marines or the bunkers.

Over on the other side of the base, Charlotte faced a similar wave of attackers. She shouted orders at her soldiers to keep them focused on the most dangerous enemies for strategic value. Her marines shot at the hydralisks from a distance, while the firebats burned any zerglings who got too close. The missile turret fired at any mustalisks flying overhead. With every defence occupied with their specific task, they had formed a formidable barrier to the Zerg’s evil aims of wiping out the colony.

Both sides of the defence were accomplishing their task with a certain ease, killing the invaders with minimal casualties. Everything was going so smoothly, it only made sense that things would eventually go terrifyingly wrong.

Shadows swept down the midpoint between the two sides of defence. A wave of mutalisks had opted to bypass the defences entirely, swooping right down the middle towards the command centre. A breadth of distance that could not be reached in foot on time. If they succeeded, it would spell doom for the whole colony. Becky noticed them, horror etched across her features as realisation dawned on her. That horror melted into grim determination as an idea popped into her head.

“Tucker!” Becky shouted at the nearby SCV, standing by in case repairs to the defences were necessary. “Recalibrate that turret to fire towards the command centre!”

Confusion painted Tucker’s features. “But why-“ he looked towards the direction Becky pointed in, realisation setting in. “Oh.” As quickly as he could, he activated his vehicle’s boosters and flew towards the turret.

Over on the other side, Charlotte had faced a similar realisation. She’d noticed the Zerg’s sneak assault almost at the same time Becky had. Spotting a recognisable SCV and its occupant nearby, she shouted over at him.

“Otis!”

“Oh yeah, pretty lady?” Otis shouted back jubilantly in response. Charlotte couldn’t work out if it was supposed to be a perverted attempt at flirting or a flippant response. Either way, she couldn’t supress a giggle at the unexpected humour, before rolling her eyes at herself.

“Otis, I need you to recalibrate that missile turret to fire at the mutalisks flying towards the command centre!”

Recognising the gravity of the situation, Otis used his SCV’s boosters to soar towards the turret without another word.

The mutalisks flew onwards to the command centre with gleeful, devilish screeching, facing no resistance. So single-mindedly focused on their target, they didn’t register the incoming missiles until it was too late. The missiles exploded into the wings of multiple mutalisks, tearing them apart, causing them to fall down to the ground to their death.

Just as things were looking bright again for the defenders, four of the mutalisks survived and flew onwards towards the command centre. Unfortunately, they’d now flown a great enough distance so as to be out of range of the missile turrets. Further recalibration would be of no use. There was no way for the missile turrets to reach them at their current range.

“We’re done for!” Becky groaned, a defeated tone coating her words. If the mutalisks destroyed the command centre, that would knock out all the power to the colony, which would have dire consequences. With no way to reach them in time, defeat looked like a certainty.

At the other side of the colony, Charlotte did not feel the same powerlessness. She knew that they weren’t alone in this battle.

Becky watched on in horror, unable to do anything as the mutalisks prepared to fire their bile at the command centre. They never got the chance.

As if in answer to her silent prayers, Sons of Korhal battlecruisers flew into view. The spaceships’ laser canons fired at the mutalisks, the deadly lasers instantly killing them on impact. Their death cries were heard loud and clear as they plummeted to the ground, acidic blood oozing out of them.

Becky exhaled in relief, joyful at the sudden turn of events. They’d defended long enough for the transport ships to arrive. And arrive they did, zooming behind the battlecruisers. Now it was time to evacuate the colonists.

\----

The defenders moped up the remaining Zerg attackers, ensuring that no Zerg stragglers were left alive to threaten the evacuation. Charlotte’s army stood guard as Becky helped direct the colonists onto the transport ships. All while Charlotte watched the redhead. The care and devotion Becky showed towards her people was inspirational, and the blonde privately wondered if she should adopt a similar approach to her soldiers. In just one hour, Becky had changed her entire outlook.

The last colonist embarked on the last transport ship, and the ships soared into the air and away from the colony. Charlotte couldn’t help but realise that their courageous magistrate was not among them. Charlotte ordered her soldiers to embark on the ships they arrived on, before walking over to privately talk to Becky.

“Not going with them, Becky?”

“All that matters to me is that they’re safe,” Becky responded. “The Confederacy will not take kindly to this. If I went with them, they might exact revenge on them for my actions. They’re safer without me.” A genuine expression of guilt was etched across Becky’s face, evidently wondering if she had done the right thing by accepting assistance from the Sons of Korhal. Charlotte felt a pang of sympathy for the redhead, knowing that she had to do something to erase her guilt and reassure Becky that she had done the right thing.

“And how do you think they’ll cope without their heroic leader, huh?” The words were said without a hint of mockery, with Becky unable to detect any disingenuity. “No, they need you Becky. Come with me. Come back with me and join them in the Sons of Korhal.”

“But-“ Becky started before Charlotte cut her off.

“No buts, just listen to me,” the blonde’s eyes were narrowed, her blue-green eyes boring into Becky’s brown eyes, which were filled with unsurety. “You really think the Confederacy has your best interest at heart? You really think they care about your colonists? They don’t give a damn Becky! They’re an antiquated government, one that needs overthrowing for the good of the Terran people. You can help us to overthrow them and ensure that your colony will be looked after. Just, come back with me and join the Sons of Korhal.” The blonde was sure that she had gotten through to Becky. She knew that Becky was intelligent enough to know that the Confederacy were far from the caring government they masqueraded as through their propaganda machine. If her speech wasn’t enough to convince her, the one word she subsequently uttered in a low tone, lowered almost to a whisper, full of emotion in a pleading tone was. “Please.”

It was true that Charlotte had been ordered by Mengsk, the leader of the Sons of Korhal, to coax Becky over to their side, having recognised her potential as a leader of the people among her colony. A colonial militia would be a boon to their side. But having met her, studied her, and fought beside her, Charlotte personally wanted Becky by her side to continue to learn from her and to get to know her better. Her initially begrudging respect for her had turned to admiration, which had turned to enjoying her company.

Becky, who by this point had bowed her head in thought, glanced back up at Charlotte, her eyes brimming with tears. These weren’t sad tears or happy tears though; they were tears of passionate determination. Her jaw clenched, her eyebrows narrowed, her lips furiously pouting, Becky forced out one word in response. “Okay.”

Becky had initially dismissed the blonde’s overbearing attitude as being a typical Terran military commander, uncaring of their soldiers’ fate so long as their aims were achieved. But over the course of the past hour that perception had been altered. She had picked up on the fact that the blonde had realised that she had judged Becky unfairly on their first meeting, but what she didn’t tell Charlotte was that she had judged her unfairly too. She recognised the commander’s military acumen, but also realised that she seemed to genuinely care for her soldiers’ wellbeing, doing whatever it took to keep casualties to a minimum. Of course this could be dismissed as Charlotte wanting to preserve her military might rather than a duty of care, but Becky sensed that the blonde genuinely wanted to keep them safe. Just like Becky wanted for her colonists. They just had different ways of going about it.

More than that, Becky realised that perhaps the personable approach would only take her so far. It worked fine when defending her city against other Terrans, but against the monstrous alien Zerg Swarm? Perhaps tough love would be needed to whip them into shape, to turn her militia into deadly Zerg killing machines, just like Charlotte’s army.

The blonde and the redhead strode off towards the entrance hatch of the Charlotte Flair’s command ship. Becky Lynch may have put her magistrate status in jeopardy by accepting military relief from the Sons of Korhal, but now she had crossed the point of no return. Now she was leaving the battered Mar Sara City to join the very terrorist organisation she had defended it against on multiple occasions in the past. Not only would she be able to keep an eye on her colonists and keep them safe, but perhaps she could also persuade them to help her free Jim Raynor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, then please leave kudos, comments, and subscribe. Comments let me know what readers enjoyed, what I'm doing right, and potentially what I could be doing wrong. So please don't be shy, let me know.
> 
> What did we think of this chapter? What do you think of the dynamic between Magistrate Lynch and Commander Flair?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> What did we think? Did we like it? Are you interested to keep on reading?
> 
> If you enjoyed it, please leave comments, kudos, and subscribe. All very much appreciated!


End file.
